


High as a Socialite

by ydysprosium



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Bruce Wayne Has Too Many Kids, Bruce Wayne Has a Bad Day, Crossdressing, Gen, Humor, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27959906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ydysprosium/pseuds/ydysprosium
Summary: Tim accidentally eats the wrong brownies right before a gala.  He has trouble getting ready, and decides that the logical solution is to trade outfits with Cass.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 130





	High as a Socialite

**Author's Note:**

> Another DC Kink Meme fill (Also, if this is your prompt, let me know if you want me to gift it to you, since I figured out how to do that now, lol)

In retrospect, Tim regretted not labeling his pot brownies and regular brownies. He’d simply wanted a quick snack before the gala, not to get high as a kite on a windy day. He’d had two before he realized, and they still had yet to fully set in, which meant he was about to be as high as a kite during a hurricane during the gala, and hopefully everyone would assume he was just sleep deprived like usual. Tim snorted and giggled at the image, then groaned when he realized he still had to somehow figure out how to get dressed first.

Tim leaned back on his bed, and tried futilely to tie his tie (it was already a tie, so wasn’t that good enough?), then realized he was still in his t-shirt and shorts. Didn’t he have to put on his dress shirt, cuff links, vest, and pants before his tie? Tim frowned and tried to find his cufflinks. They were shiny and red-robin shaped, and clunked when they fell out of his hands onto the ground since they lacked tiny grappling lines. Tim giggled at the image and tried to care enough to pick them up off the floor. They seemed to like it where they were, and Tim couldn’t remember what order he was supposed to get dressed in anyway, and closed his eyes. It was all too much.

Tim woke up a short time later to Cass leaning over him, frowning. Normally he would have hit the ceiling, but he just giggled. Were they missing the gala yet? Tim hoped so.

“Late,” she said, pointing at his clothes. “Get dressed.”

“There’s too many,” Tim whined, throwing the vest and tie off the bed. “Why do guy’s clothes have so many pieces?”

Cass furrowed her brows in thought for a moment, then brightened with an idea. “Wear mine, easier,” she said, slipping quickly out of her dress and throwing it on Tim. Then she put on his dress shirt, and quickly started buttoning the many buttons, so fast it made Tim’s head spin. They were close enough to the same size that it’d probably work.

The dress was floor length, red and puffy, soft, and not too crinkly, and Tim managed to stand up and pull it over his head by the time Cass finished dressing herself in his entire suit, complete with tie and cuff-links. It fit her well, and she probably looked better than most of the socialites at the gala in Tim’s suit. Cass pulled back her hair, then turned to look at Tim and frowned. She pulled and adjusted the dress until it fit better, then pulled out her purse and dabbed some concealer on Tim’s face (all the better to cover the eyebags that surely were still residing under his eyes), ran red lipstick across his lips (all the better to distract from his reddened eyes, probably), and ran a pencil uncomfortably close to his eyes, doing something unfathomable.

“I guess we’re ready,” Tim said, struggling to remain upright as he slipped on Cass’s shoes. Fortunately, they were flats, he couldn’t even imagine the added difficulty of trying to balance in heels right now. Tim glanced at his reflection in the mirror over the dresser. He looked…pretty good actually, no one would even be able to tell he was high. It was then he noticed the empty plate with brownie crumbs on the dresser. Tim frowned. He could have sworn there had been one brownie left, but maybe he had eaten it and forgotten. Tim shrugged. He’d find out later if he and Cass both needed help standing upright.

“Yes, go,” Cass said, pulling on his arm, and practically dragging Tim out of the room. Tim zoned out for most of the trip there, focusing on keeping himself upright, and following Cass’s lead. He didn’t bother to pay attention until he heard the noises of gather people growing in volume, and bright lights flashed in front of him.

“Ah, so here are two more of the Wayne siblings,” a reporter said, all teeth and getting in too close. “Tell me how you came to such an unconventional dress choice. Is this a political statement or a fashion statement?” the reporter asked, shoving a microphone into Tim’s face.

“It’s my sister’s, she lent it to me,” Tim blurted out without thinking.

“Ah, I see,” the reporter said, taking in Cass’s outfit. “So the two of you traded for tonight? Any particular reason why?”

“No time, sorry,” Cass said while pushing past the reporter and dragging Tim along behind her. She was a lifesaver, honestly, and Tim resolved to try and make it up to her, later when he wasn’t so high.

\--

The people-watching was definitely the highlight of any of these events, in Steph’s opinion. That and the free drinks and food. She didn’t really even have to go, not officially being a member of the family, but Barbara usually figured out a way to get the whole family invited. (Which was probably a bad idea if any of the villains ever figured out their secret identities, but considering half of Gotham’s villains were also at the gala, there probably wouldn’t be too much trouble tonight. At least she hoped they all had enough sense to enjoy the cheesecake like she was, instead of causing mayhem.)

“Hey, have you seen Tim and Cass around?” Dick asked, looking mildly stressed as a scowling Damian hung off his arm. “They should have been here by now.”

Steph frowned and checked her phone. “I sent Tim a message half an hour ago, but he just responded ‘adfoiweryoi’. Either he’s been kidnapped, or his sleep deprivation has finally caught up with him.”

Dick groaned. “Bruce has been asking about Tim and Cass. He wants to have the whole family up onstage when he gives his presentation, and you know how he gets.”

“I fail to see why this is a problem, Grayson,” Damian piped up. “Drake is not a part of the family. However, Cassandra’s disappearance is perhaps concerning.”

Steph let out a small snort of laughter, glad for the third time that night that she didn’t have to officially be responsible for any of Bruce’s hellions. She did maybe feel a little sorry for Dick. “I’ll try texting him again,” she said, taking out her phone.

There was a disturbance on the far side of the ballroom, and Cass emerged from the crowd, dragging a stumbling Tim behind her. Except Cass was wearing an expensive suit that was probably Tim’s, and Tim was wearing an outrageous red puffy monstrosity, that actually didn’t look half bad on him. He actually looked hotter than he usually did, and Cass looked gorgeous as usual. If Steph hadn’t already known she was bi, she was certain this would have been a life-defining moment for her.

“Oh, look, there they are,” Steph squeaked as Tim and Cass approached.

“Tim,” Dick said, when the two approached closer and they could see that his eyes were more bloodshot than usual, and he almost faceplants when tripping on the edge of the dress. “So, you and Cass decided to switch clothes for the evening?”

Tim giggled and draped himself over Steph’s shoulder. “Yeah, it’s like a disguise. You know, if I was high, which I’m not, it would be a perfect disguise to distract from me being high, also, why do men’s clothes have so many buttons? Cass is better at buttons than me.”

“Yeah, Tim, you are definitely not high,” Steph said, rolling her eyes. 

Damian sputtered but didn’t say anything, and Dick thanked Cass for bringing an absolutely not stoned out of his mind Tim to the gala.

Cass nodded at them, then said, “hungry,” and slipped off to get a plate of food.

Dick looked about ready to pull his hair out. “Steph, can you take care of Tim? I’ll bring Cass and little D over to Bruce.”

“Hey, I can take care of myself,” Tim protested, but remained latched onto Stephanie’s shoulder.

“Sure you can,” Steph said, then she caught a glimpse of Cass sneaking a steak off some rich CEOs plate. “Tim, did you get Cass high?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so. Maybe she ate one of my pot brownies if I had accidentally not labeled them, which I didn’t, since I’m not high.”

“Uh, yeah,” Steph said, watching as Cass finished the steak, then slipped a piece of pie off another plate. If Cass had accidentally gotten into Tim’s pot brownies, at least the only effect appeared to be a bad case of the munchies. In any event, she was Dick and Bruce’s problem now, and Tim was Steph’s problem. She pushed him off her shoulder so he was mostly standing on his own. “All right Mr. Not High, let’s get you over by the stage so you can be ready to look respectable when Bruce gives his important speech.”

“But Steph~ I’m hungry!” Tim whined. “Cass is enjoying half a chocolate cake, and I haven’t had anything yet.”

Cass was indeed scarfing down half a chocolate cake, where she had gotten it was anyone’s guess, and Steph found herself envying Cass’s metabolism for a moment. “Okay, one snack,” she conceded. “Since you are absolutely not high, you shouldn’t need much to eat, right?”

Tim pouted, his red lips looking gorgeous in the dress. Steph was definitely going to try playing dress up with him later. Maybe both when he was stoned then sober.

Five slices of pie later (since Tim had decided they needed to try blueberry, blackberry, cherry, raspberry, and apple to decide which was best, and Steph didn’t disagree), they stumbled over to where a frowning Bruce was waiting by the stage.

He looked at Tim and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tim…” he said.

“Hey, it’s very twenty-first century for a guy to be confident enough to wear a dress,” Steph said. “Get with the times, B.”

That’s not the issue here,” Bruce said. “Recreational use of marijuana might be legal now, but it’s still not good judgment to overuse before a gala.”

“Mm not high,” Tim mumbled. “Jus’ ask Dick and Steph. They believe me.”

Bruce looked almost about to break into tears. “Steph, can you, uh, make sure Tim doesn’t cause a scene?”

“Sure thing, B,” Steph said, propping Tim up against the stage to take a selfie of all three of them. 

It would be a night to remember, and Stephanie was determined to have photographic proof, in case some of the others forgot. She was sure she’d have at least five years’ worth of blackmail on Tim by the end of the night.


End file.
